


Kale Flaps

by Reyka_Sivao



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Dildos, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Consent, F/F, Lesbian Character of Color, Lesbian Sex, Lesbians in Space, Oral Sex, Queer Themes, Smut, Star Trek: Dwellers in the Crucible - Margaret Wander Bonanno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:20:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27970697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyka_Sivao/pseuds/Reyka_Sivao
Summary: MORE BAD PORN but this time with the space lesbians.Cleante and T’Shael...um...explore further techniques and use the worst metaphors I could think of.
Relationships: Cleante al-Faisal/T'Shael
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	Kale Flaps

Cleante flopped on the bed and looked up at her Vulcan lover. 

“Soooooo.”

“‘So’?” said T’Shael. ”Is that not usually followed by a statement?”

“I’ve been thinking about your kale flaps.”

“My what?”

“You know, your southern lips. Your flesh curtains. Your stuffed pita.”

“Are…” T’Shael, tilting her head slightly. “Are...am I given to understand that you are referencing my external sexual organs?”

“The very ones,” said Cleante with a smirk. 

T’Shael’s eyebrows rose toward the cabin ceiling and threatened to escape her skull. “I see. And you have been thinking about them…for what purpose, exactly?”

“I mean that depends on you, doesn’t it?”

“Clarify.”

Cleante sat up again. “I mean, there are so many options! I could finger-kiss your glory hole, or taste that fleshy salad, or dry hump your love button, or you could do any of those to me, or we could play scrabble.”

“Is...is that last one also an impenetrable metaphor?”

“Heh, impenetrable. Uh. I mean no. The rest are but also I really like scrabble.” She paused and considered. “I’M not impenetrable though, if like, you know, that’s something you wanted to take into account.”

T’Shael’s eyebrows evaporated into her hairline. 

“I…” She paused again to consider. “I suppose I would be amenable to…further exploration.”

Cleante grinned. “Where shall we start?”

T’Shael thought about that. “While we have established that certain sensations are mutually pleasurable, we have yet to look into the use of assistive devices.”

Cleante’s smile grew into a full-blown smirk. “You’re thinking strap-ons, huh?”

T’Shael raised her eyebrow and turned toward the replicator on the wall. “Computer. One double-ended dildo. Ridged.”

“Ohhoho, you HAVE been doing your research!”

“Indubitably.”

The dildo materialized on the replicator’s surface, and T’Shael picked it up. One end was sharply angled to facilitate hip control, while the other was ridged and ready for thrusting. 

“What is your preference with regards to the usage of such an item?”

“Hmm, I think I’d rather see what YOU have in mind.”

T’Shael twitched her eyebrow again, and then set the toy down again and systematically began removing her articles of clothing one by one.

Cleante stood and followed suit, though she made more of a show of it, stretching to emphasize the curve of her breasts and watching gleefully as T’Shael’s eyes traced them. 

“Sooooo.”

“So?”

“So tell me what you want to do to me.”

“May I request that you lie back on the bunk and separate your legs?”

“Why of course, t’hy’la,” said Cleante playfully, following the instructions. “My love tunnel is yours for the taking.”

“I assume that that is a reference to your vaginal canal?”

“Of course. Don’t forget my pearl at the top of my oyster.”

“I will of course endeavor to provide adequate clitoral stimulation, yes.”

T’Shael carefully took the replicated object and with a deliberate slowness, inserted the sharply angled end into the entrance of her vaginal opening. 

“Hmmmm,” said Cleante, as sexily as she could make a syllable with no vowel. “I think I like where you’re going with this.” She settled her buttocks more deeply into the mattress and opened her legs as far as she could to make as much room as possible for the pseudophallic extension between her lover’s legs. “Fill up my lonely penetration receptacle.”

“I see. Shall I replicate some personal lubricant?”

“I mean you could, but it would pretty much be wasted on this wet-ass pudenda.”

“In that case, perhaps I shall simply forgo further preparation.”

T’Shael knelt on the bed and maneuvered the silicone vaginal gratification device towards the entrance of Cleante’s well-lubricated opening. 

“Are you ready to proceed?”

Cleante squirmed on the bed. 

“Come oooon,” she said, and then tried in broken Vulcan. “You enter me!!”

“Very well,” said T’Shael, and efficiently inserted the elongated accessory into Cleante’s body, specifically the vagina part of her body. 

“Aaaaaaaaahhhhhh,” said Cleante, which was Vulcan for “Aaaaaaaaahhhhhh”. 

“I take it,” said T’Shael, starting to breathe more heavily, “that my performance...is adequate.”

“Mmm-hmmmmmMMMMMM,” said Cleante, once again ignoring the existence of vowels. 

T’Shael’s hands found her way to Cleante’s wrists. 

“Oooh,” said Cleante. “Pin me down like a tractor beam, my green-blooded love-bunny.”

“Your metaphor...is rather...aah,” she said, forgetting the rest of the sentence she was attempting to communicate as the sexual aid shifted and pressed against the nerve bundle at the apex of her vulva. 

Cleante shifted under her to change the angle for both of them. 

“FASCINATING!” said T’Shael, more loudly than was entirely logical.

In fact, it was SO anatomically fascinating that she couldn’t help but pause to catch her breath. 

“HEY,” said Cleante, grabbing her hips and trying to pull her physically inside her. 

T’Shael leaned forward so she was almost parallel to Cleante’s torso, forcing the silicone ridges to drag the silicone ridges against Cleante’s exposed clitoris. 

“AsdfghjklAAAAA,” said Cleante, which was an impressive set of consonants to manage even in the middle of an orgasm, which she currently was. 

T’Shael gave it a few more thrusts for good measure before slowing to a stop to allow Cleante to catch her breath. 

Cleante’s fingernails dug into her skin, but T’Shael found she rather enjoyed the sensation and made no attempt to stop it. 

“OH,” Cleante said with the first breath she’d managed in 0.48 minutes. “That...OH...was...oh.”

“I take it your needs have been satiated,”

Cleante gulped in another breath. “Any more and I think I’d die.”

T’Shael was careful to be slow in removing the phallic extension from Cleante’s vagina. “That would certainly be less than ideal.”

Cleante laughed and turned halfway on her side. 

“And you, my love? What about  _ your _ needs?”

T’Shael carefully removed the angled toy from her own vaginal canal and set it aside. 

“As you have achieved your objective, I believe it is unimportant to continue.”

“Mmm-hmm,” said Cleante, turning a little more and finding T’Shael’s hip with her fingertips. “And if I  _ wanted  _ to reciprocate, would you refuse me that desire?”

“I…” T’Shael looked down into Cleante’s amber-brown eyes and smile like a taste of honey. “I suppose I would not.”

Cleante raised her hand to the small of T’Shael’s back and pressed her toward the bed as she rose up herself. 

“I told you I was thinking of that salad of your flaps,” she said greedily, raising up above T’Shael’s now-prone form. “So…if I wanted to take a taste…”

T’Shael clenched her fists, trying to ignore the sensations her imagination was already offering to suggest what she might be about to experience. 

“I am,” she gasped, “not certain that is sanitary.”

“Mm-hmm,” said Cleante. “Not everything fun is sanitary. But is that a  _ no?”  _

“It….it is not a no.”

Cleante let a slow smile spread across her face, and bent lower. She let her breath whisper across T’Shael’s groinal region. “I didn’t think so,” she whispered with the smallest possible breath, and then finished leaning in to take a taste. 

T’Shael went ridgid. 

Cleante ghosted her fingers across T’Shael’s navel. “Was that the kind of reaction that means you want me to stop?” she said. “Or the kind that means you feel like you’re going to die if I don’t keep going?”

“I am,” gasped T’Shael, “not in any danger. However—” She didn’t seem able to continue. 

“But  _ what?” _ breathed Cleante, using the backs of her fingernails to trace up between T’Shael’s breasts. 

“But... _ please,” _ begged T’Shael. 

Cleante smiled, almost into the flesh of T’Shael’s belly. 

“Hmm,” she said. “Should I make you say it? Or should I have a bit of mercy?”

T’Shael scrabbled at the sheets until she found Cleante’s face with her fingertips. 

The telepathic pulse was both vivid and  _ incredibly  _ specific in Cleante’s mind’s eye. 

“Oh REALLY,” she grinned. “WELL. In that case. I suppose I won’t leave you in denial any longer.” 

She dug her fingers into T’Shael’s hips for perchase and dove forward, spelunking in T’Shael’s flesh cave with her tongue. 

T’Shael’s flaps almost stood at attention with the amount of blood she could feel rushing to that portion of her anatomy. Cleante had compared them to kale, but right now they felt more like broccoli, and Cleante seemed eager to make sure they were evenly covered with T’Shael’s homemade sauce. 

“Hmmmm,” vibrated Cleante directly into T’Shael’s clitoris. “I could eat you forever.”

“I...am not certain,” gasped T’Shael, “that my vaginal fluids contain enough caloric content to preserve your life for any length of..aaah.”

“Mhmm-HMMMMMM.”

T’Shael gripped the sheets, forgot her name, clenched her thighs like a gravitonic phenomenon, tried not to pee, stopped breathing, made an entirely un-unemotional face, and also had an orgasm. 

Cleante attempted to remove her face from T’Shael’s vagina, which was difficult because T’Shael had forgotten she needed to breathe and left her thighs locked. 

“Askvmmmvlish,” mumbled Cleante, still directly into T’Shael’s clit, which was so overstimulated that T’Shael finally remembered to let go. 

“Not that that wouldn’t have been a fun way to go,” said Cleante cheerfully after restocking her oxygen reserves, “but I WAS hoping to hear what you thought of dirty human fun.”

“It...I...there is...Ah...I cannot draw adequate conclusions from a single data point.”

“Thought so,” said Cleante smugly, wiping off her chin and plopping down on the bed next to the still-boneless T’Shael. “I’m sure we can set up a satisfactory scientific trial at some point.”

“That would be….acceptable.”

Cleante laughed. “Of course. It’s only...logical. Now as soon as you can walk again, go pee. Humans may not always be totally hygienic, but we have methods of mitigation after the inevitable fun.”

“Fascinating.”

  



End file.
